


Holding On To Good

by BombshellKell



Category: Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BombshellKell/pseuds/BombshellKell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sigyn knows that Loki doesn't love her anymore. But if he can't love her, how could anyone else?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding On To Good

The first time Sigyn woke up in a bed alone, she felt panicked, her chest strained and empty. Loki never slept cuddled up to her, or even so much as touched her while they were sleeping, but his shape was always there. Now it wasn't, and she didn't suppose it ever would be again.

She sat up, running a hand through her hair. How late had she slept? It felt as if it was already late in the afternoon, though she was confused enough as it was, waking up alone. She wasn't built to be alone. It wasn't until she'd swung her legs out of bed and smoothed her nightdress over her legs that she realized something had woken her up. A knock on the door. 

She stood, going over to her mirror and giving herself a once-over. She wanted to look less than half as miserable as she felt, but she didn't think it would be proper to look completely fine, either. After all, their divorce had been finalized in front of many, and by now she supposed most of the palace residents knew why it had happened. But she looked just as sad as she thought she should be, and so she opened the door in her nightgown and bare feet. 

"I thought you may want something to eat." Fandral pushed past her, a basket of bread and some fruit clutched in one hand. She opened her mouth with a small sound of protest. "I know you wouldn't be at breakfast, in any event. Knowing you, you'd stay in here all day." 

"What are you doing?" she asked in a shrill whisper. "You can't be here, you have to leave." 

He looked offended, setting the basket down on the foot of her bed. "Why? We're friends. I've been seen with you before." 

"Because everyone knows you! Everyone knows what happens when you go into... when you come into ladies' rooms. Even in the middle of the day. If someone saw you with me now, I'm even worse off than I was..." 

"No one saw me," he promised. "And you're allowed to have friends that come into your bedroom." 

"Not... friends like you!" She huffed, but gave in after that, sitting on the basket's other side and taking a little piece of bread out. "But thank you. You didn't have to do this." 

"You were the wronged one, after all. I thought you at least deserved some food." 

"Was I the wronged one?" She looked up at him with a half-smile. "I don't feel like I was wronged." 

"Of course you were wronged." He frowned, one hand resting on the basket's arched handle. "Loki was unfaithful to you. And Sif was unfaithful to Thor. Both you and Thor were wronged, and Thor is certainly acting the part, let me say. So why is he wronged and you aren't?" 

Sigyn shrugged, letting her shoulders slump down. "It seemed obvious to me that Sif or Thor would do it eventually. They're so much alike, it must have just been like loving themselves. No excitement... adventure. Of course one of them would eventually want something else." 

Fandral nodded. "And you and Loki?" 

She pursed her lips. "I... I knew better. I knew that Loki hasn't loved me for a long, long time. And I was... I was presented with many opportunities to leave. But I never did." 

"Why not?" 

"Because I didn't think anyone but Loki would ever love me," she said, looking away from Fandral. "I didn't think anyone could. I'm strange, I'm too quiet, I feel more magic than woman most of the time... I frighten people with my dedication, to Loki, to magic..." 

Fandral said, "You don't frighten me." 

"I'm glad," Sigyn replied, still not looking back up at him. "I feel as if... most of the other ladies hate me because I'm not enough like them to be loved, but not enough like Sif to be respected. I'm only me and myself and that's all I'll ever be." 

"That seems a wonderful thing to be," he told her, and without thinking he reached over and took her hand. It was just what he did; when a lady was sad, he touched her. But Sigyn didn't fit into his normal plan, didn't react in the way the others did, and so instead of pulling her hand away and giggling, or giving him a playful slap, she held it tight. 

"...Do you think someone will love me again, Fandral?" she asked, her voice wavering with tears. 

"I think that someone already loves you." 

He was kissing her then, and instead of shoving him away, as she knew she should, she was wrapping her arms around his neck and desperately pulling him in closer. His hands felt so big compared to Loki's long and slim ones, broad and warm on her back. It wasn't until she felt the loss of the fabric between his hand and her back that she thought to pull away, with a soft cry of distress. 

"No. Fandral, you don't love me. You don't know what love is." 

She'd meant it to be a joke, but she could see the hurt on his face, even though, as always, he was quick to smother it. "I only wish that was true," he said, letting his hands drop, his arms unwind from around her. "I could be the one to love you, Sigyn. I may not know how now, but..." 

"I don't trust you," she said, standing up and crossing her arms over her chest, feeling cold with nervousness. "I know you, Fandral. We're friends, isn't that what you said when you came in here? Friends. I know exactly what you say, what you do. I'm not interested in being in your collection!" 

"You won't be in my collection," he argued, standing up when she did. "I swear to you, Sigyn, if you give me this chance, we could... we could take everything we've done wrong and get rid of it. We could grow into each other."

"That isn't how it works. You can't change just like that. Just because you want to." 

"Actually, that is exactly how you change." 

"Not you." 

"And why am I so different!?" he demanded, raising his voice. "Why am I so unfixable? Have you ever thought that you might be the one to fix what you think is so broken about me?" 

"I don't want that responsibility!" She hated that she was starting to cry, wanting to look angry but knowing she only looked sad and lonely. "Just leave, Fandral. I don't want any of this. I want Loki back." 

"Why, Sigyn? Why do you want Loki? What did he do for you that I can't? You're afraid I'll be unfaithful, but that's exactly what he's done, isn't it? You don't want Loki, you want the gorgeous prince of Asgard you made up, the role you cast him into. There was no Loki, as far as you're concerned. He was never a kind prince, never your hero!" 

"I want him back." She backed up until she was against the door, sliding down into a sitting position and letting out a painful sob. "I want him back." 

Something softened in Fandral, and he immediately stopped the next retort he'd been preparing. He sighed, looking around the room for a moment before going to sit next to her. It didn't take her long to lean against him, her face pressed against his shoulder, every sob sending a jolt of dull pain through her chest and stomach as she tried to suppress them. Fandral put his arms around her and let her cry. 

\- - - 

She didn't speak to him for a long time. The summer disappeared much more quickly than it had come, and soon the garden's leaves were splatters of red and gold, the flowers long gone and the path indistinguishable from the grass. 

Fandral knew she was angry with him after what he'd said to her, but every so often he would find her and sit next to her, whether she was reading in the library or sitting alone at a late breakfast. She wouldn't move or speak, but when he was lucky she would look at him, and he'd be able to tell that she was grateful for having him there. And he supposed for then, that was enough.

But she wasn't in the gardens that day, and he knew it. He wasn't looking for her; he wasn't stupid enough to follow her around all the time. Loki and Sif had made their love known publicly at last just days before, and he hadn't seen Sigyn walking about since then. He supposed she was sad, but after what had happened the last time he'd tried to cheer her up, he didn't want to risk it.

He found a bench covered in yellow, star-shaped leaves and sat on it, his hand absently brushing off a space beside him, for an invisible lady to sit next to him and smile. He hadn't told anyone he loved them for a very long time. When he brought women to his chambers, he always found ways around it. He would say he loved the way they did something, the way they touched him, or kissed him. He would say he loved their eyes, or their hair. But he'd never said he loved them. Not as he had with Sigyn. 

He couldn't believe he'd been so stupid.

He was so wrapped up in scolding himself that it took him a moment to realize that the imaginary skirt and hand that he'd pictured in the space on the bench beside him had turned into a real skirt and hand, the latter reaching over and resting on top of his. Sigyn was in green, a soft tea green that seemed to adore the curls falling over her shoulders.

Instinctively, Fandral tried to pull his hand back, but just as she had in her bedroom that morning, she squeezed her fingers around his. 

"...Loki is happy," she said.

Fandral nodded. "...It seems like it," he admitted.

"I want to be happy." 

"I can make you happy." 

"I know." She smiled up at him, and her smile was so shy and happy that he knew it was the most genuine smile he'd ever received from her. "I only want to say that... I trust you, Fandral." 

He watched her, studying her face for any sign of uncertainty but finding none. "Do you really?"

She nodded. "I trust that you love me." 

Fandral pressed his lips together, a rush of happiness filling him to the brim. And for once, she was the one kissing him, her slight and soft hands running up over his face, from the roughness of his jaw up into his hair. 

As they grew into each other, Sigyn felt for the first time that someone might be able to love a strange, quiet girl again.


End file.
